The First Cut
by lovejag
Summary: After celebrating their being together finally, Harm learns a dark secret about Mac during the months after Paraguay.


"The First Cut"

By Rita Widmer

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: FWAFS, season 9

Summary: After all the celebrating of their being together finally, Harm learns a dark secret about Mac during the months after Paraguay.

Author's Note: This story deals with a very sensitive topic, and if it is uncomfortable for you to read please stop. I won't give it away in the author's note, but you will know very early in the story. Don't worry it doesn't deal with character death, non-Harm/Mac pairings, nor drugs and alcohol problems.

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Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

Harm idly moved his hand up and down Mac's arm as she lay sleeping after their most recent round of love making. He loved to watch her sleep. It was one of those rare moments where she looked completely relaxed, and the worries of the day seemed to leave her.

As his hand reached near her wrist once more, he looked down at the hand that connected to that small wrist. It was so small compared to his, and it amazed him to see the differences between them.

He watched her move her left arm up towards her head, and when the moon outside started glowing over it through the window. He knew his heart had stopped, and leaned over to investigate closer. There on her left wrist were angry looking scars. It almost looked like she had slashed them.

That couldn't be right he decided. She would never slash her wrists. Their has to be another explanation, and he was going to find out as soon as she woke up.

Mac opened her eyes very slowly, but as she remembered what she was doing before she fell asleep, she smiled. Looking over at Harm, her smile disappeared at the intenseness in his whole body. Something was wrong.

"What's wrong, Harm?" she asked softly.

He lifted up her left arm, and showed it to her. "This!"

As soon as she saw what it was, she pulled her arm away and held it close to her body. Tears springing to her eyes, she closed her eyes once more.

"Where did those scars come from?" he asked, trying to hold back his anger and pain.

Hearing the tone of his voice, she looked at him, and knew she had to answer and answer honestly. "I better start at the beginning…"

&& The makeup she wore to work that day was fading with setting of the sun on the horizon, and she could see the dark rings starting to appear underneath the heavy makeup she used every day. It was to cover up the pain that lay hidden deep within her at work. She knew many thought she wasn't in pain, that she didn't care what had happened in Paraguay but she did deeply.

The more it hurt the more she hated herself for how it went down there. Her Marine façade was fooling everyone at work if their indifference towards her was any evidence of how they felt. She pretended not to care, and when at home she allowed herself to cry and break down.

Going into the kitchen, she decided to throw together a quick salad since it was so easy to make it for only one person. Taking out the lettuce, tomatoes, and carrots out of the refrigerator she put them down on the countertop. Putting the lettuce in the bowl, she moved to cut the tomatoes.

Moving with precise motions, she heard a door slam outside which caused her to jump in surprise. The knife unknowingly had moved to cut her wrist. She set down the knife, and moved quickly to the sink to clean the wound so to get a better look. Luckily, she noticed it wasn't too deep. Grabbing paper towels, she put pressure on the wound trying to get it to clog up.

She watched the blood slowly seep through the towels, and found herself fascinated by the sight. Moving into the living room, she sat down on the couch. Her wrist was pounding and aching, and for the time being she forgot about all other pain in her life.

Those minutes passed her by with a nice slowness as she watched it slowly quit bleeding. She came to realize how it almost felt as good as a drink would it at that moment. It was actually relief not to worry about work the next morning, or another day without Harm in her life.

She shook her head violently as she realized she was thinking of cutting herself like an alcoholic would drink.

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The images and feelings of that night would haunt her for the rest of the week. She had gotten some strange looks from her coworkers when they saw the bandage on her wrist, but she quickly said she just cut herself.

Taking the bandage off to put a new one on, she looked at the healing wound. It wasn't so bad. Maybe just a little cut won't do any harm will it? It would be just enough to ease the pain a little for her. It was her fault for the mess she was in, and she had to do something to ease the guilt inside her.

Without any more thinking, she moved to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Just a little cut not enough to need a bandage. Her right hand moved hesitatingly across her wrist. A little blood oozed where the knife had punctured her skin. The pain grew in her wrist as she slid the knife across it.

'This is what I needed to take away the pain!' she yelled in her head. She washed the new wound, and looked down at the now two marks across her wrist. The pain was almost as intense as the last one from the adding of another wound.

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Nobody noticed the marks on her skin, or preferred not to say anything. 'Some of both,' she bet to herself. She didn't do it as often as she did at first. Things were starting to ease up at work now that Harm was back. They had their hero, and she was now welcome part of the group grudgingly.

She also had found a new comfort for her in the form of Clayton Webb. The more involved the less she cut herself. It wasn't the person she really wanted, but he needed her and that's what she wanted. To be needed by someone, anyone at all, and Harm would never be it. &&

Mac looked down at the old scars that she had tried to cover up with a chemical cream that was supposed to hide these ugly scars. She had forgotten though to put it on recently, and now they were shining through once more for Harm to see.

Her eyes were full of tears of anger and sadness for herself. With the help of Dr. McCool, she was able to start forgetting about cutting herself. The last time she had was the day she had found out she most likely could never have children. That last cut served to remind her that her pain never went away, it only got worse.

Ready to see hate in his eyes, she finally looked up at the man who she loved with all her heart. Their were tear stains from the tears that fell down, and unthinkingly lifted up her left arm to wipe them away.

"Harm," she whispered as he moved away from her touch. "I don't do it anymore, I promise you. Dr. McCool helped me get over the urge to do it."

"I was the reason why you did it, wasn't I?" he asked with agony.

"No Harm. It was me, all me. I was the one that said never. I drove you away from me. It's in the past, we're together now. Remember that, please!"

"What if you had decided to cut yourself so deep that you bled to death, Mac? What would I have done then?"

"Found happiness with another woman eventually. I was a mess, and I admit it. We can all do what ifs all night long, but I'm still here now. I got the help I needed eventually."

"You don't know how grateful I am that you did, Mac. Those months after I came back to JAG, I was wondering where the Mac I knew was. I was watching a shell version of you, but you weren't letting me in." He finally slid down next to her in the bed, and wrapped his arms around her. "Don't leave me," he pleaded to her.

"I won't now."

The answer all at once caused pain and relief in his heart and soul. He knew she would keep that promise until one of them died of old age, and even then they would still be connected by their love and their memories.

It wasn't the way either thought that night would go, but Mac felt relief at finally letting that dark secret out. It was now in the past firmly, because she had found what she really needed all along, Harm.

The End


End file.
